Billionaire and the Bodyguard
by tntfriday13
Summary: Clark Kent moves to Gotham to protect it from a rise in crime. Bruce Wayne becomes a target and searches for a bodyguard. What better way for an ex-reporter and Superman to make money? Full summary inside.


**A/N: Hi, guys! This is my first Superman/Batman story so I hope I get things right. I suppose I should inform you that this story is defiantly AU (Alternate Universe) meaning that things are going to be different from the comics/movies/cartoons, though I do base this story off of the cartoon series more than anything (with a bit of the other series thrown in at random times) .**

_Summary: A rise in crime and the sudden disappearance of Batman draws Clark Kent to move to Gotham City. When Bruce Wayne becomes the target for criminals, he goes in search of a bodyguard to keep up his image. What better way for Superman to make money than to work for a rich guy?_

**Oh, and one more thing! To set the record straight- Batman and Superman have met, it is Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent that have not. **

**WARNINGS: Slash, violence, and sex (later on).**

**DISCLAIMER: (I hate these things) I do not own the Batman or Superman franchise (that includes movies, comics, cartoons, toys, etc.). Just a fan! **

Billionaire and the Bodyguard

The air was murky, the sky was dark, and the many people that walked on the sidewalk next to the road looked just as intimidating as the tall and gloomy buildings that made up Gotham City. It seemed that no matter what time it was, be it day or night, Gotham City seemed to radiate a dark feel that Clark just wasn't used to. It was a big change from his home in Metropolis, but that's what he had suspected when he decided to move to this gloomy crime-ridden city and as he drove his Nash-Healey down the streets of Gotham he was having a hard time figuring out how he was going to make it in such a big place. Considering that he was more of the "country bumpkin" type, one would expect Clark Kent to move to a more rural area rather than one of the world's largest cities. It was because of this reason that it had taken Clark a while to come up with a valid excuse to tell his fellow reporters at the Daily Planet why he was moving to Gotham City, but he finally decided to tell them that he had no choice but to move because his grandfather had died recently in the City due to a mugging incident and now his grandmother was left all alone. He most certainly couldn't just leave her there to fend for herself in the most dangerous city now could he? Of course they all bought the story with much sympathy left for the poor man who just lost a dear relative. Why wouldn't they have? He was, after all, a boy scout with a heart of gold who would lay down any plans to take care of the ones he loved.

But, in truth the real reason for moving was much less like a sappy story and more like if a whole city had been made with just Lex Luther's as its inhabitants. The truth was that Gotham City was flooding with criminal activity.

It wouldn't have been much of a surprise if the crime rate had just gone down after a couple of weeks, but it just seemed to escalate further and further with each passing day. The Daily Planet was so far into the story that Clark was sick of the word "Gotham" by the end of each day leading up to the move. It was as if Batman was starting to weaken to a point where he could no longer take care of the city. The police were doing the best they could, sure, but without the help of the Batman, the big criminal names were starting to cause a lot of damage to the city! It was only a week ago that Clark had to write up a story on how Scarecrow's fear toxin made a court go raving mad with the guilty party escaping while the cops were busy shooting the jury they had thought were "monsters." It was horrible!

Clark suspected that the man behind the bat was starting to get out of crime fighting and probably taking up another hobby that required less aggravation and life-threatening situations.

Clark sighed. Sometimes he wished he could do the same thing.

He stopped his car at another red light (one of the many in the city) and had to resist the urge to cough as more fuel exhaust fumes reached his nostrils from the many other cars that surrounded him. It was in moments such as these that he really wished he didn't care about the world's problems.

It was about an hour later when he finally reached his new home. It had taken a while and a lot of night scouting to find a living place that wasn't in a horrible neighborhood or in a fancy penthouse that he couldn't afford, but the trouble seemed to have been worth it when he reached the old apartment building complex. He had managed to snag himself a decent looking room as Clark Kent (the many alleyways are very helpful when switching costumes during his scouting missions) and got a pretty good price on it that an average reporter would have been able to afford.

He parked his car across the street and grabbed his bags out from the trunk. He then opened the banged up door that led to the inside of the building and headed up the creaky stairwell towards his room. He was lucky that the last resident of his room loved heights and hated the sun because it just so happened that his room was located on the top floor and the only window in it gave him a pleasant view of the alleyway and not the busy streets. With these lovely features to his new home, it would be more than easy to just change into his costume at home and then fly out the window whenever he goes out on patrol. The vast amount of alleyways would make changing a breeze too!

He placed his new key inside the doors keyhole and stepped inside. The room was furnished, since there were only 3 real rooms it was decent size to contain some form of furniture besides just a bed. The kitchen was modest having only a gas stove, a fridge, a trash can, and a few cabinets near to the floor (one of which had the sink on top). It was also connected to the living room, which had only a couch, TV, a table with chairs and the rest of Clark's belongings he had brought before the initial move. The bathroom consisted of the usual bathtub with built-in shower nozzle connected to it, a sink with a mirror above it and a cabinet below it, and then a toilet. The mirror had been broken thanks to the past residents outbursts (which managed to get him kicked out in the first place), but Clark was sure that he could replace it once he found a stable job. The bedroom was what he was really happy to see, it contained only a nightstand, a dresser, closet, and a bed that were all barren, but Clark didn't care as he dropped his heavy bags and flopped down onto the bed.

_You'll never know how tiring it can be to move until you actually do it._

While Mr. Kent slept on his barren mattress, Mr. Wayne was busying himself with more pressing matters on his own comfortable, silk sheeted, bed.

"I'm telling you Alfred. This is starting to get out of control. I need my full attention to be on Batman, not picking out what flavor of caviar I want to be at my next party." Bruce complained.

"But, Master Bruce, you are injured and in need to rest. It would do Gotham City no good if you went out in your condition and got yourself killed. Who would protect Gotham and give me a chance to try out new recipes besides young Master Dick? I'm sure he would still love to taste my new recipe for a strawberry shortcake, but would be less prepared to protect Gotham given his age and lack of experience." Alfred said from his place on the side of Bruce's bed. It had been a full hour since Bruce Wayne had emerged from his slumber and tried to go into the training room. Luckily enough, Alfred just happened to be walking towards that general direction (for no apparent reason) and politely ordered Mr. Wayne back into bed for some more rest. This is where the two of them are now.

Bruce sighed. It was true. With Dick only being 8 years old, he would not be able to take up being the Batman as of yet. Bruce hadn't even taken him out into the field!

"Who says I would die?"

"Who says you wouldn't besides a doctor and myself?"

Bruce laughed slightly, "You always worry too much. I'm almost fully healed now."

There was a knock at the door and a small boy with black hair ran into the room and onto Bruce's bed, "Don't go out, Dad! You need to get better first!" he yelled as he stared down at the man.

As hinted at, the Batman had experienced a pretty bad accident. There had been signs that Joker had escaped from Arkham once again and that he had been hiding in an old factory. More precise an old toy making factory that still had some big toys left over. He had gone into the factory carefully as he normally would when he was greeted with a boxing glove to the face, courtesy of one Harley Quinn who had broken Joker out in the first place. The Joker had not been far behind her as he started to throw exploding bouncing balls at the Batman from atop a giant metal bear. Batman had dodged them easily enough; it was only when the Joker got tired of their little game that he decided to throw the exploding hazards at the support beams of the factory. That's when everything fell to pieces, quite literately, to be precise that's what caused Bruce's injury. The Joker had ran away after the last explosion and had left a confused Harley alone with his enemy. The girl had been too preoccupied with finding her "pudding" than to notice the huge shards of glass that been falling straight towards her. No doubt the Batman had to have saved her, but in the process he had cut his left leg up pretty badly.

If it hadn't of been for Harley's sudden sympathy for him and therefore dragging him out of the collapsing building, he wouldn't have been able to get out alive. It was also thanks to his Bat-lasso that Harley hadn't been able to get away when she had tried to flee the scene. Oh, and his contact with Allred also helped quite a bit when the cops decided to show up later on after the explosion.

It was kind of funny because Dick had come with Alfred at the time to turn Harley around so that she could not see who was helping the bat. He had been wearing the Robin costume Bruce had given him last Christmas, so you can imagine Harleys surprise when Dick (clothed in black and red tights with cape) happily declared, "I'm Batman's partner!" to her as he moved her into a corner and then happily skipped back into the limo.

Bruce had to chuckle slightly at the memory which only made Dick frustrated, "What are you laughing at? This isn't funny, Dad!" Dick said.

Bruce gave his 8 year-old adopted son a smile and patted his head.

"I know, but Gotham is falling apart without me. Commissioner Gordon and the rest of the police force are in over their heads with all the crime that starting to rise because I'm not there to keep it in help." He moved Dick off of him as he started to get off the bed. When both of his feet touched the ground and he moved to stand he couldn't help but try and reassure his family "You see? I'm perfectly fine, so there's no need to—"

He was cut off when he glanced back at the young boy on his bed. The kid was looking at him with eyes that can only be compared to puppies. Bruce sighed. He couldn't fight off the kid's cuteness. He sat back down on the bed, "I guess one more day of being Bruce Wayne couldn't hurt. After breakfast and the meeting that's later on today, how about we all go out for ice cream?"

The boys eyes immediately lit up and he hugged his father, "Thanks, Dad."

Alfred couldn't help but smile at the touching scene as he made his way out of Bruce's room, "Very well. I shall bring you your breakfast and then we will get you ready for your meeting with Gen Corp."

"Thanks, Alfred."

Tomorrow it's back to work.

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! And don't worry, I think the pace will start to pick up around chapter 2 or 3 and provide you guys with some interaction between Clark and Bruce. Until then! Stayed tuned for more Billionaire and the Bodyguard. **


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